When the doctor broke my water to start labor, (Yea!  That’s right!  I was induced, okay!  I’ve heard the criticism.)  little did I know that would just be the start of the wave of fluids to leave my body for not just the next six hours, but the next six weeks.

The worst was in the hospital when I couldn’t go.  I kept apologizing to the nurses who had to catheterize me.  I filled a two liter container.  No, I’m not exaggerating.

As if meconium laced newborn diapers weren’t gross enough, no one  tells you about all the postpartum leaking, seeping, and general weeping.  I’m here today to share more about post-baby bodily fluids.  You’re welcome!

• Sweat– The first two weeks after Charlotte was born I would wake up in drenched sheets with wet strands of hair.  I would apologize to Greyson for all the saline in the bed.
• Urine– I had to go all the time.  It was always an ordeal, you know, with the stitches and such.
• Colostrum–  The very first bit of breast milk you have.  The first time I fed Charlotte in the Delivery Room I was shocked to find it there!  I remember saying, “Oh my God!  There’s milk in there!”
• Breast milk–  The next few days after Charlotte was born my mom kept asking me, “Has your milk come in yet?”  I would reply, “I dunno.”  She would say, “Oh!  You’ll know.”  Boom!  Little did I know, when the dairy opened, I would be in business for a full year.  My cups runneth over. I swear sometimes I thought I had enough milk for two babies.  I never had to buy formula.  That was awesome.  I have to say, I really miss calorie burn of lactating.  Now, I have to run instead of sit on the couch with the breast pump.  Boo!
• Lochia–  That’s a fancypants Latin word for “six weeks of heavy period”.  Oh, and no tampons.  Only pads.  I had horrific flashbacks to 7th grade.
• Tears–  I’m not a cryer by nature.  I mean, I’m not cold hearted.  I shed a few reading The Notebook and watching Mr. Holland’s Opus.  But, it was nothing compared to other women (::ahem:: my sister) who sobbed during Titanic.  (“I’ll never let go, Jack!”) Something happened when the hormones started dropping.  I came home and saw flowers from friends and coworkers and could stop crying about it.  This Chevy commercial  came out the week we brought her home.  It killed me!  I would just look at Greyson and say, “What has happened to me?!”

Even with all that dampness I look back on those first days affectionately.  There was nothing like it.  You just have to wade through.

November 4, 2010. The day we brought her home. I was nervous, puffy, swollen, but happy.

Every mother deals with postpartum anxiety differently.  Most of you know my story in all its gruesome detail.  I’ve been told I was “brave” to tell it.  I had many of you email me your thanks and tell your own stories.  I thank you for that.  I don’t feel brave, so I appreciate it and I’m glad to know I may have helped someone.

Last week I met a woman with a 10-month-old who had a whole new take on things.

This new mom was telling a group of women about the horrible nightmares she was having.  She dreamed that someone was coming in her home and stealing her daughter from the crib.  She described sleepless nights when she would lay in bed praying no one would take her baby.  She would often wake her husband up to get his gun in the middle of the night.  Finally she had enough.

She said, “I decided I didn’t want to use his rifle.  It’s too big.  I went downtown today and got my gun license.  I’m getting my own pistol.  I’m sleeping better already!”  She laughed and joked about it.

Alright girl.  Get it.  If that’s what helps you sleep at night, I say go for it.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a gun owner and I believe in strict firearms laws.  But, I also don’t want to infringe on anyone’s rights or judge another mother for doing what she thinks is best to protect her child.  I certainly wouldn’t want a gun-toting mama to judge me for taking meds and getting therapy.  I chose Zoloft.  She chose Smith & Wesson.  To each mom her own.

This morning I got dressed for work and glanced at my reflection wearing a pretty blue cardigan, dress pants, and peep toe heels.  I was comfortable.

This afternoon I grabbed some chocolate from the office candy jar.  I enjoyed every sweet bite.

Tonight I shared leftover takeout with my husband.  We chuckled at our baby smearing her dinner around.  I was happy.

There was a time in my life when none of that was possible.  No mealtime was comfortable.  Any treat was guilt-ridden.  No clothing looked good.  I was consumed by the self-loathing and obsessive behavior that comes with an eating disorder.

I don’t talk about Anorexia very often.  It’s not that I won’t or can’t.  I will and I can.  I’m not ashamed of what I’ve been through.  In fact, I’m proud of my recovery.  It’s just in my past.

I thank God all the time that my disease didn’t take my life.  I thank God it didn’t  take my fertility.

I hope and pray that anyone suffering from an eating disorder can get to where I am.  I wish they too could get to the point of not really thinking about their disease because it doesn’t consume them anymore.

If you want to know more. Ask me.  I’ll help however I can.

It’s National Eating Disorders Awareness Week.  Be informed.  Know the signs.  If someone you know is suffering.  GET THEM HELP!  Donate.  Tweet it out with #NEDAwareness this week.

Aaaannnd…cue “Survivor” by Destiny’s Child.

“Thought I couldn’t breath without ya,
I’m inhalin’
You thought I couldn’t see without ya,
perfect vision
You thought I couldn’t last without ya,
but I’m lastin’
You thought that I would die without ya,
but I’m livin’
Thought that I would fail without ya,
but I’m on top
Thought that it would be over by now,
but it won’t stop….
Thought that I would self destruct,
but I’m still here Even in my years to come,
I’m still gonna be here”

In those first few weeks after Charlotte was born I would live to be able to take a shower.  It was 20, quiet, uninterrupted minutes I could take for myself.  I would stand there and let the water drip down my still spongy belly, hoping it would wash away my dropping hormones.  The warmth would soothe my sore, swollen breasts.  I knew soon enough I would be called upon to feed her again. 

I would breathe in the steam, rest my head on the cold tiles, and pray.

“Why, God am I so anxious, and scared, and nervous?  Please free me of all that haunts my brain!” 

Lately I’ve been putting Charlotte in the shower with me, mostly as a time saver.  But, it has turned into the funniest little playtime.  She LOVES the water.  She splashes as it pools around the drain.  She shows off her rubber duckies and squawks out what I can only guess is her version of singing in the shower.  We giggle at bubbles on soaped up tummies. 

I breathe in the smell of baby shampoo, rest my head against hers, and pray.

“How, God did I get this lucky?  Thank you for this love.  Thank you for the privilege of experiencing this joy!”

I still live to be able to take a shower.

Yesterday at church the sermon was all about fear, how fear holds us back, and how we can overcome it.  The minister rattled off a list of American adults’ most common fears.  There was of course, public speaking, spiders, heights, failure, and clowns.  (The clowns thing is dumb.  I think adults afraid of clowns are acting to get attention.  I find it hard to believe any grown-up truly has a “crippling fear” of clowns.) 

I got to thinking about my biggest fear.  I realized it’s changed.  9 months ago I would have said failure was my biggest fear.  Not the case now.  My biggest fear now is something happening to Charlotte.  I fear her getting hurt, burned, cut, stabbed, suffocated, drowned, molested, harrassed, sick, falling off a subway platform, stung by a jellyfish, bitten by a Brown Recluse Spider, pricked by a cactus, getting addicted to Meth, bit by a rabid animal, becoming a victim of medical malpractice, kissed by a Dementor, or cyberbullied.  (Thanks ABC Family for that last one.) 

As the minister was speaking about overcoming fears I thought, “Oh God!  How am I going to get past being afraid of all that?!?”  Then I realized, I did something this past week to overcome my new-mama fears.

I bought this awesome little portable exersaucer thing that folds up like one of those tailgating chairs.  I got it from One Step Ahead, and it is great!  How did this thing help me be less afraid?  I bought it to put out on the deck so Charlotte could play in it while we all enjoyed the top deck of our beach house last week.

If you’ll recall, much of my anxiety and the beginning of my Postpartum OCD all started with visions of a baby falling off the high deck of our beach house when I was pregnant.  I had a lot of anxiety about this before our trip, but I absolutely refused to be crippled by this fear during our family vacation. I wasn’t scared, just cautious, and we had a great time.

I figure if I just prepare and face my fears head on, I can manage.  So, I’m off to master my patronus charm and dismantle the Internet. Wish me luck.